“Remember,” said he, “I am the most
confiding of your patients; remember I obey you blindly,
and that consequently — "

“I know all that,” said Guenaud.

“I shall be cured, then?”

“Monseigneur, there is neither strength of will,
nor power, nor genius, nor science that can resist
a disease which God doubtless sends, or which He cast
upon the earth at the creation, with full power to
destroy and kill mankind. When the disease is
mortal, and nothing can — "

“Is — my — disease — mortal?”
asked Mazarin.

“Yes, my lord.”

His eminence sank down for a moment, like an unfortunate
wretch who is crushed by a falling column. But
the spirit of Mazarin was a strong one, or rather
his mind was a firm one. “Guenaud,”
said he, recovering from his first shock, “you
will permit me to appeal from your judgment.
I will call together the most learned men of Europe:
I will consult them. I will live, in short, by
the virtue of I care not what remedy.”

“My lord must not suppose,” said Guenaud,
“that I have the presumption to pronounce alone
upon an existence so valuable as yours. I have
already assembled all the good physicians and practitioners
of France and Europe. There were twelve of them.”

“And they said — "

“They said that your eminence was suffering
from a mortal disease; I have the consultation signed
in my portfolio. If your eminence will please
to see it, you will find the names of all the incurable
diseases we have met with. There is first —
"

“No, no!” cried Mazarin, pushing away
the paper. “No, no, Guenaud, I yield!
I yield!” And a profound silence, during which
the cardinal resumed his senses and recovered his
strength, succeeded to the agitation of this scene.
“There is another thing,” murmured Mazarin;
“there are empirics and charlatans. In
my country, those whom physicians abandon run the
chance of a quack, who kills them ten times but saves
them a hundred times.”

“Has not your eminence observed, that during
the last month I have changed my remedies ten times?”

“Yes. Well?”

“Well, I have spent fifty thousand crowns in
purchasing the secrets of all these fellows:
the list is exhausted, and so is my purse. You
are not cured: and, but for my art, you would
be dead.”

“That ends it!” murmured the cardinal;
“that ends it.” And he threw a melancholy
look upon the riches which surrounded him. “And
must I quit all that?” sighed he. “I
am dying, Guenaud! I am dying!”

“Oh! not yet, my lord,” said the physician.

Mazarin seized his hand. “In what time?”
asked he, fixing his two large eyes upon the impassible
countenance of the physician.